Happy Birthday, MsKathy!
by SweetDulcinea
Summary: A birthday gift for my dear friend MsKathy! Shower!Lemons and the usual naughtiness abounds.


**A/N: Happy Birthday to my darling MsKathy! If you don't know her you must be pretty new to this fandom. She is an amazing woman, an incredible writer, and an irreplaceable friend. I am so blessed to know her. That being said, I wrote her a little smutty fun.**

**MSK, this is absolutely indulgent but inherently fluffy, and I hope it brings a smile to your face. I like to call it "Showers and Spankings and Role Play, Oh My!" hehe . . . enjoy!**

* * *

"Dear God, woman, you're insatiable."

I giggled at the way he groaned and gripped my hips tightly. My hands ran up and down his thick arms as I continued rubbing my wet, naked body against his.

"You're the one who was gone for a week!" I said playfully.

"It was for work. I couldn't help it!"

I looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah, but it was two days after we got home from our honeymoon, which I might remind you was the first time we'd had sex in six months."

"It was your idea to do that."

"It's not that uncommon for couples to do before the wedding, and if I remember correctly we had plenty of fun in other ways," I defended.

I watched a smile curl his lips, knowing he was remembering all the blow jobs he received during our six long months of no-penetration . . . and probably that one time I gave into his begging for anal.

"Anyway," I went on, "now that it's over and I'm officially Mrs. Garrett Weaver, I'm trying to make up for lost time. Stop complaining."

Reaching up, I scratched my nails along his neatly trimmed but full beard. I watched his eyes slip closed and his head tilt back slightly. He always loved that, and it was a surefire way to get him worked up.

"Bella," he moaned, wrapping his arms around me and giving a squeeze. "Fuck . . . we have to work."

"Shh . . . there's plenty of time."

Extracting myself from his hold, I grabbed his shampoo and started working it into his thick hair. He didn't keep it as long as he used to, wanting to project a professional image, but it still had a couple inches I loved to play with (and sometimes tug on). I moved back to his beard, scrubbing it clean as well, taking a moment to comment on how long he had spent with his face between my legs the night prior. I earned a hearty chuckle for that.

Next, I moved onto his body, squeezing a generous dollop of his soap into my hand. I worked my way slowly, tracing his well-defined muscles as I did.

"You're so fucking hot," I told him. "I see the ways people look at you. Lustful women; jealous men. So sexy, so confident, and all mine."

Kneeling, I washed the outside of his legs, then the inside as I moved back up. He was already hard, which had been my intention, so I gave him a few teasing strokes with my soapy hand. I cupped his balls, "washing" them thoroughly and driving him to a near frenzy. We'd been together for years, and I knew exactly what made him tick. Our six months of somewhat-abstinence had led to a number of fun discoveries about each other as well. All the while, Garrett was breathing heavily and muttering my name. I just smiled.

Ready to really get things moving, I slid my hand back a little further, ever so lightly brushing my fingertip . . .

"Fuck!" he yelled, stiffening and pulling me up to my feet. "Off limits."

"Oh?" I said, feigning innocence.

"That doesn't seem very fair. Turnabout is fair play and all that."

"No," he said even more firmly.

I slid my slick body back up against his, pressing my breast firmly against him as I pouted. Putting a hand between up, I cupped his balls again, rubbing a finger just behind them but no further. I was completely fucking with him, but it was intentional. The desired reaction I'd been going for was achieved.

"You're being bad, Mrs. Weaver," he said through gritted teeth as he snatched both my wrists and pushed me against the shower wall. He held my arms over my head, pinning me in place with his muscular form. "This kind of behavior is not acceptable."

I did my best to keep my expression blank, not gloating or excited as he leaned his face down to mine and spoke quietly.

"Keep your hands here," he said, releasing my wrists and positioning them so they rested on the top of my head.

"Am I being sent to the principal's office?" I asked. My voice was contrite, but the excitement boiling inside me was undeniable.

"So that's what you want, is it? Private detention with Principal Weaver? Hmm . . . well that was a repeat offence." I watched the mischievous smile grow on his face, and I knew the moment he accepted my inferred proposal.

Suddenly serious, he scowled at me. I pulled my lips in to keep from smiling victoriously.

"I'm going to have to find an appropriate punishment for your behavior," he said thoughtfully.

Moments later, his hands were on the sides of my ribs, and his mouth was moving over my collar bone. I squirmed happily at the sensation but remained with my hands over my head. He was so good with mouth. There was this way he stiffened his tongue and used the tip to carve paths of fire across my skin. I was helpless against him. At the slope of my left breast, he paused, sucking hard. I knew that when he pulled away I would have a generous love bite.

I struggled to keep myself under control. It was difficult not to move or grab at him when he was touching and kissing me, especially under the warm spray of the shower. Especially difficult when he moved to my breasts, squeezing them hard and biting down on my nipples. I cried out, but it was such a fantastic blend of pleasure and pain that there was no way I would ask him to stop. He seemed to get off on my reactions, though, because whenever he glanced up at me, he was grinning.

Slowly, he made his way back to my mouth, kissing me for a minute before he pulled back. His hands, however, were slipping lower. As he began to speak, one hand gripped my hip and I felt the other sliding between my thighs.

"I'm not sure you've learned your lesson. Put your leg up."

Following his instruction, I placed one foot on the shower bench, watching him drop down to his knees. His fingers parted me open, but it wasn't his tongue I felt, it was the coarse hair of his beard.

"Holy shit," I spluttered, my knees buckling momentarily.

He was gentle, very teasing, as he skimmed his facial hair against my clit. It wasn't as though it was the first time I'd ever felt his hair there, but it was normally in the midst of lips and tongue. This was purposeful. When I thought the strange but wonderful feeling would get to be too much, he put his tongue on me in the slowest, most agonizing lick ever.

"So close," I muttered, and to my absolute disappointment, that was when he stood. "What the hell?" I demanded.

"Uh uh uh," he tisked, "It wouldn't be a very effective punishment if I let you get off, now would it?"

"Garrett," I groaned.

He moved as though he was going to kiss me, then brushed his lips across my cheek until they were at my ear. "This was your idea, beautiful. Now turn around and let's give your arms a break."

I was maneuvered to face the bench seat, his body close behind mine and his hard cock pressing against my ass.

"Bend over."

I did as I was told, and as soon as he had my legs spread, his finger plunged into me. It didn't take long for me to get worked up again, but just when I was ready to burst, he pulled out and I immediately felt a sharp, stinging smack on my ass cheek.

"Ahh!" I yelled, straightening up and looking back at him.

"Now we're getting somewhere, though I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping that would have left a hand print."

I was pushed back down, and he didn't hesitate to hit the same side again, that time must harder. I cried out at the way the wet smack echoed in the shower stall and the hot sting on my bottom.

"That's much better," Garrett said, rubbing gently where he had spanked me.

"Fuck me," I blurted, pushing back against him. Yes, I was begging, but I knew in the end it was what he wanted too. "Enough teasing."

He bent over me, his cock rubbing and his body enveloping mine. He kissed the back of my neck and shoulders, teasing a little more.

"Ask nicely," he rasped.

"Please. Please fuck me."

"Address me properly if you really want it," he demanded.

I sighed in exasperation, my pussy clenching with need. Pushing back against him, I gave him what he wanted. "Please, Principal Weaver. Fuck me now. I need it."

"That's better." He stood, and my elbows wobbled at the force of his penetrating thrust. He was thick, and no matter how many times we'd done this, it always took the breath out of me when he first pushed inside. I loved everything about the man. Absolutely everything, and he was mine forever.

My sweet thoughts were cut short quickly. He was rough and hard, and he matched each of my loud cries of pleasure with a throaty groan of his own.

"Oh fuck . . . oh yes . . ." I chanted knowing I would finally, _finally _get my climax.

But then I didn't. The water suddenly turned cold, and Garrett yelped in surprise. He immediately turned off the shower and slid out of me.

"Bed, now."

His words were forceful and demanding, and I obeyed. My attempts to grab a towel were thwarted when he batted my hand away from the rack and instead picked me up. Having a brick wall for a husband had its benefits; he was incredibly, arousingly strong.

I was tossed on the bed, and he climbed over me, dripping wet and looking like Poseidon in all his glory. He was no less eager and demanding of my body than he had been in the shower, and I wrapped my legs around his thighs, using the leverage to keep him close. He drove into me over and over, face buried in my neck. When my orgasm crashed over me, my fingernails dug deeply into his ass cheeks that I'd already been holding onto so hard. His cry was low and long until I released my grip.

It was clear to me that he was ready for his own release, so I let him manipulate my body as he moved onto his knees and lifted both my legs over his left shoulder. He was hard and fast, his face strained in exertion. The angle was sharp in the wake of my own orgasm, and I knew if he lasted just a little longer I would explode again. I clenched as tight as I could around his cock, and lifting just a little further, he held my legs tightly in his arms and smacked my ass on the opposite side as his release struck. The overwhelming build of sensation and that last spank did it for me, and my body stiffened in kind.

We carefully disentangled ourselves and collapsed on our very wet bed. I was exhausted. After catching my breath, I rolled over, draping an arm and leg across my husband's body as I tucked my head against his shoulder.

"My butt stings," I mused.

"You deserved it."

"_Now _we need to get ready for work."

"Ugh," was all I got from him as he rolled off the bed and went back into our bathroom.

We both proceeded with our morning routines, grinning and joking with one another as we did. I made a quick breakfast while he packed lunches, and right on time, we were out the door. He drove us in silence, his hand covering mine on my leg. Ten minutes later we had arrived.

He kissed me in the car before we got out, and then it was time for the day to officially begin.

"Do you think they can tell what we've been up to?" he said under his breath as we approached the office.

"I don't think so, but I'm sure they all make their assumptions. They always have," I answered with a smirk.

"Love you. Have a good day," he whispered, giving me a smile before turning toward the office.

"Love you too, _Principal Weaver._" I winked at him and turned toward the first grade hall to prepare my mind for another school day.


End file.
